If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that one of the things I love most in the world is a sign, some kind of confirmation that I'm on the right track, some kind of guidance on what direction to follow.
This passion sometimes edges over into obsession, as it did when we were driving through British Columbia in June. Not wanting to lose his life at the hands of a distracted driver, Mr. Green took the wheel so I could record the messages the mountains were trying to give me. This way, I figured, I'd be able to take the time to study and decode them. I took scores of pictures.
Here it is late August and I haven't found the time to look at them. Until today.
Anthropology wasn't offered at my college, I've never given more than cursory attention to hieroglyphics and I know nothing about languages which use alphabets other than the Latin one. But I'm fairly certain that these mountains are rife with important information.
Please let me know if you read or see anything I should be aware of!
There's a clear 'E P' in the red circle to the far left, 'S5' or maybe 'F5' in the middle circle and if that isn't a lucky horseshoe over in the right hand circle, I'll EAT MY HAT.
If I were a musician, I would definitely be thinking about the merits of making an EP.
As one of my favorite tarot card readers, 'Abby' from the old Gypsy Tea Kettle on 56th St and Lexington Avenue used to say "Is there a V, please? A Victoria? A Veronica?" Abby, a story in herself for another day, wore her hair in a huge platinum bee-hive and claimed to be Miriam Hopkins' son Michael.
I didn't bother to circle the three '0's' on the side of this peak so you could also find the five 'I's just to the left of them. And the smiling cat face in the right middle ground. AND SO MUCH MORE.
Maybe it's a blessing that I never learned Morse Code. I'd be so busy here I might never do anything again EVER.